


Prince of Hearts

by astudyinfic



Category: Sherlock (TV), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom, bondlock - Fandom
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Modern Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:03:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 23,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinfic/pseuds/astudyinfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quain is the spoiled Prince of England, third in line for the throne.  James Bond is his bodyguard and lover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Background ships for this story are Greg/Molly and Mycroft/Anthea. No Johnlock in this one. Sorry. :)

When the alarm sounded, James sighed before slipping front the opulent bed, careful not to disturb his lover.  The younger man was always difficult to deal with in the morning, preferring to stay up late and sleep in later, always typing away on that bloody computer.  Not to mention that if he discovered James attempting to get ready for work he would try to lure him back to bed.  James snorted at the thought.  He would lure him back to bed.  James had trouble saying no when faced with those stunning green eyes.

The clock read 6:45, giving him just enough time to shower and dress before going on duty.  At least he didn’t have a long commute, he smirked starting his shower.  Showering quickly, he slipped into his suit and made his way downstairs to check in with the Chief of Security before reporting to his duty station.

“Good morning, sir,” Bond smiled as he walked into the office.  “How is the wife?”  The Chief was a great man, one who cared about the people under him, taking the time to get to know them personally.  It was that fact that encouraged Bond to stay on his good side.  The Chief could make his life difficult if he ever saw fit.  

“Lovely as always.  Thank you for asking,” Lestrade smiled, the happy grin of a man who had just married a sweet woman who worked at a nearby hospital.  “And you Bond?  Love life as active as always?” He smirked knowingly.  Nothing that happened under this roof escaped his notice and while this was the most that was ever said on the subject, the implication was clear.

“A royal pain in my arse, actually, sir,” Bond laughed, grabbing a quick cup of coffee before heading back up the stairs.  Like every other day, it struck Bond how odd it was to leave the room as a resident but return as an employee.  Not that he lived there officially.  He kept his own flat a few blocks away but he had not seen the inside of it in several months.

He opened the door silently, coming to stand next to the bed, a tousled head of dark brown hair sticking out from under the covers.  He smiled fondly before going about his usual morning checks and beginning to work on his paperwork while the young man in the bed continued to sleep.  At one point, someone from the kitchen staff brought up their breakfasts, both the server and the bodyguard knowing full well the other man’s breakfast would go untouched.  Bond nodded at her before beginning to eat.

When the morning started to grow late, his lover still hadn’t managed to pull himself from the bed.  Using all the manners he could muster, he stood next to the bed and cleared his throat, eliciting no response from the man.  “Good morning, your highness,” he said loudly, his voice echoing in the large room.

The man in the bed stirred and groaned before pulling the blankets up over his head.  James longed for the day when he could pull the blanket off him and pull him out of bed as his lover and not as his bodyguard.  Yes, he was both but his duty to keeping the Queen and her family safe came before his desire to teach his insufferable young boyfriend the merits of rising before noon.

“Sire, you have a busy day.  Either get out of bed now or I shall send one of your brothers in to fetch you.”  It was an idle threat they both knew but it spurred the younger man into action.

Throwing the blankets off, Quain stared up at him through half-lidded eyes.  Reaching out a hand to James, he begged, “Come back to bed James.  It’s too early to be up.”

“I’m sorry, my prince, but we both have our obligations and it would be highly unprofessional of me to keep you from them.  Not to mention highly inappropriate given our respective stations.”  Bond attempted to keep a straight face as he spoke but the corners of his lips turned up slightly by the end.  

“Get into this bed with me now, Bond.  And take off that bloody suit though you do make it look good.  That is an order,” Q tried, looking put out at Bond’s response.

With a sigh and a shake of the head, Bond smirked as he replied, “And that is sexual harassment, sir.”

“Fine, fine.  Have it your way, Bond,” the prince griped, throwing the blanket off and pulling himself to standing, unapologetically nude.  James’ fingers twitched with the desire to pull Q into an embrace and kiss that sour expression away.  Seeing his bodyguard struggling for control, Q’s face softened as he stepped forward to put his hands on James’ hips.  “Why can’t we just be together, James?  Why does this have to be so hard?”  he whispered, looking much younger than his thirty two years.

Relaxing slightly at the touch, James leaned his head forward against Q’s.  “Because of who you are, my love.  And because of who I am.  You may not be the direct heir but until Mycroft has a child of his own, there is a still a chance that you will be king.  And it is my job to keep you safe.  Unfortunately, I can’t do that by keeping you in bed all day, as much as we both may like to do so.”

Q’s eyes fluttered closed and Bond could tell that he was thinking on his words.  “But we all know Mycroft will have a child.  Probably a whole mess of them.  He and Anthea have only been married a few months now and we know they go at it like rabbits.  I’ve walked in on them more times than I can count.  There will be plenty of new heirs before Mummy passes.”  As Q spoke, James shuddered at the mental image of the next in line for the throne being caught having relations with his wife by his baby brother.  “But then I will be free to do what I like and we can be together.”

“Q, love, you will never be free.  You will always be His Royal Highness, Prince Quain.  Eventually they will give you other titles as well.  This is your life, my dear.   This is what you were born to be.  And aside from being your bodyguard for the rest of my life, I see no way for us to be together.”  Bond was pleased he managed to keep his voice from cracking, though his heart broke as he said the words.  It was something they both knew and understood but to hear it out loud was disheartening.  There was no way someone of Q’s status would be allowed to be in an open same-sex relationship.  The Church and the family would never allow it.  What they had now was the best they could ever hope for.  

Pressing a quick kiss to Q’s temple, Bond stepped back and resumed his role as bodyguard.  “Sir, you have a meeting with MI6 at one this afternoon.  As it is quickly approaching the noon hour, I suggest you get in the shower.  You know how M dislikes it when you are late.”  Q glared but nodded begrudgingly before setting off for the bathroom, the size of which rivaled Bond’s unused flat.  Rolling his eyes slightly, Bond straightened up his paperwork and called for one of the junior members of the security detail to come pick it up for delivery to the Chief.  

He laid out Q’s clothes with a smirk, already anticipating the struggle with the young man that he would have upon Q viewing the attire.  As expected, the moment he exited the bathroom, his eyes fell on the offending piece of clothing.  

“Like hell I am wearing that, James.  You may enjoy wearing the monkey suit all day, and heaven knows I enjoy taking it off of you, but unless it is an official function that Mummy has mandated that kind of attire, I am not leaving this room in that. “

To Bond it was a perfectly acceptable suit, beautifully tailored and the few times he had seen Q wear it the man had looked positively ravishing.  But Bond knew him better than anyone else and knew there was no getting him to wear something he didn’t want.  Making a show of it, he sighed and picked it up to return to the closet.  “I assume you have something else in mind, your highness.”

“Piss off, James.  None of that ‘your highness’ from you.  It’s just the two of us in here.”

“Whatever you say, my prince,” Bond smirked, hanging the suit in the closet.  “Whatever you are going to wear, pick it out fast.  The car will be here for you in ten minutes.”  After rehanging the suit, Bond returned to the sitting room to watch the young royal put on his normal outfit.  His brothers preferred a more professional appearance, though Sherlock always tended to wear his clothes a bit tighter than could be recommended,  but Q had always dressed more casually.  Knowing that, James couldn’t help but smile when he actually did choose a tie to wear but then covered it with a deep gold cardigan.  With a resigned sigh, he simply shook his head and called down to make sure the car was waiting for them.

They walked at a respectful distance through the palace, James following two steps behind and always on the lookout, not that there was much to fear within the wall of Q’s home but it was his job to be cautious.  Reaching the door, he turned to Q, “Wait here, your highness.”  Q rolled his eyes in annoyance but did was he was asked.  When James determined it to be safe, he led Q to the car, one hand on his weapon until they were safely inside.

“Well done, Agent Bond,” Q smirked, trailing his hand up James’ inner thigh once the car was moving as James leaned forward to tell the driver where they were going.  

James’ removed Q’s hand, placing it back on the royal’s own lap, since the window between the two of them and the driver was still open.  “Just doing my job, sir,” he said, trying to keep himself in a professional mindset and not snog his boyfriend senseless before his meeting with the top spy agency in Britain.  “And if you promise to behave yourself during the meeting it would make my job that much easier.”


	2. Chapter 2

In the security of the car, hidden from the peering eyes of the public, Q’s family, and the Palace staff, James smiled as Q curled into his body.  Wrapping an arm around Q’ slender frame, James kissed his hair.  “This is nice,” Q sighed softly, relaxing further against James before falling silent once more.

Absentmindedly running his hand up and down Q’s arm, James thought back over their unconventional relationship.  He certainly hadn’t been looking for a new lover when he took the position.  After retiring from the Navy, he was looking for a way to continue to use his skills in a more civilian setting.  He actually considered working for MI6 but the opportunity to protect the Royal family was not one he could pass up.  At first he was simply a door guard, which was about as dull as it sounded.  Soon, however, the opportunity to shadow the youngest prince came available and Lestrade quickly moved James to that position.  Until then, James had never directly met a member of the family and he wasn’t sure what to expect from the young prince, who had a reputation in the press as being a bit eccentric.

Bond got to witness that first hand early on, as if the former guard’s hastily written notes hadn’t been enough of an indication.  The guard had quit after a mere five months, requesting a transfer to another assignment.  In his paperwork he cited illegal activities and antisocial behavior as the factors that drove him to his decision.  That alone got James interested in what he was going to encounter.

The first day he let himself into the room to find Quain asleep on his laptop, several cups of cold tea dotting his desk around him.  He woke when James entered and looked at him through crooked glasses.  With his wild hair and sleep lined face, James was still taken aback by how attractive he was.  The perfectly posed press shots released by the Palace every year did nothing to showcase the young royal’s good looks, and Quain was notoriously good at avoiding the paparazzi’s invasive lens.  James marveled briefly that he was one of the few people to ever see the attractive prince who avoided the public and the spotlight relentlessly.

“So you are the new bodyguard?” Quain had asked, his voice gravely with sleep.  He had penetrating green eyes and when he looked James over from his seat at the desk, Bond felt like the other man was looking directly into his soul.  “I suppose you will last longer than the last one,” Q had said after a long pause.  “And you are much nicer to look at.”

That was the first time since taking the position at the Palace that Bond had been unable to keep the smile off his face.  “Thank you, sir,” he replied, keeping the thought that he believed the same was true for the Prince to himself.  He probably had tons of staff meant to praise him and stroke his ego.

Later on James had learned that he was mistaken.  A bodyguard was the only staff kept by Prince Quain.  His small amount of correspondence went through the Queen’s press secretary.  He picked out all his own clothing except on the rare occasions of an official Royal obligation that he couldn’t get out of, in which case his brother Mycroft dictated his sartorial choices.  Even then he managed to put his own twist on things.  Bond would never forget the all black velvet suit and he tended to roll his eyes whenever he thought about it.  He had long ago learned to pick his battles with Quain, both as a bodyguard and a lover.

It was embarrassingly fast how quickly they went from bodyguard and Prince to lovers.  When it was just the two of them, Quain was witty and sarcastic, always ready with a quick retort to all of Bond’s dry remarks.  James learned early on that he was falling for his charge.  Within the first week he realized how compatible they were, how Q’s reserved and quiet public persona was both true and false at the same time.  The young prince was painfully shy when it came to public appearances and royal duties, especially when it meant mingling with a crowd and making small talk.  However, one on one and in situations where he felt more comfortable, he could banter and debate making his point articulately with passion and intelligence.  

Towards the end of the first month of Bond’s assignment to Q, Quain finally said something.  “You find me attractive, don’t you James?” he had asked while he got dressed one morning.  Bond was in the full throes of lust of the other man by then and was doing his best not to watch, keeping his interest tamped down under a professional, detached demeanor.  

“I’m not sure what you are talking about, sir,” Bond had replies, digging his fingernails into his palms when Q walked over to him, completely nude.  He kept his eyes on Quain’s and thought he was being completely professional.

The prince however merely cocked an eyebrow.  “Really?” he asked, his voice taking on a sultry tone James had never heard before but desperately wanted to hear again.  “Because I know you watch me.  Do you think I normally change out here in the open?  Parade around starkers when I am alone?  I want you to look.  I want you to do something.”

Bond swallowed, clinging to the last shred of professional composure he had.  “And why would you want that?” he asked, unsure what response was going to come from Quain.  The prince had a wicked sense of humour and Bond was uncertain if this was just another of his jokes.

“Because I enjoy torturing my bodyguards,” Q smirked.  “Haven’t you heard of my reputation.  I am difficult to work with and friendless.  I have to keep appearances somehow.”

Some of Bond’s disappointment must have shown on his face because Quain’s own face softened considerably and stepped even closer, “Why do you think?  Because you are my type, you idiot.”

The corner of James’ mouth turned up slightly as hope blossomed in his chest.  “Is that so?  You have a thing for broken down ex Navy officers?”

He sighed when Q put his hands on his chest, “Not particularly but strong, intelligent men with eyes so blue and clear you could get lost in them have always been a weakness of mine.”

James wanted.  He wanted so badly but as always his sense of duty won out and, with a sigh, he stepped back.  A sad smile graced his lips, “I am your bodyguard, sir.  This would be inappropriate to continue while I am on duty,” he said firmly, his heart dropping at the disappointment and rejection he saw in Quain’s eyes as the other man stepped back and turned to walk away.  Reaching out and grabbing Q’s hand, the smile on Bond’s face grew to something happier and more joyous, “However, I will be on my own time in three hours and would very much like to continue this conversation.”

Quain had smiled and nodded before going off to finally get dressed.  Bond felt no shame in enjoying the view as Q walked back to his dressing area.  For the next three hours, the two men did a complicated dance around each other, toeing the line between professional and personal with sly glances and sarcastic retorts.  

When the time came for James to go off the clock, he made his way back to the security office, checking in with Lestrade and reporting that there was nothing in fact to report.  However, instead of heading back to his flat, he returned to Quain’s quarters, knocking softly before entering.  He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, he had only been gone for ten minutes but he was almost surprised that everything was exactly the same.  However, this time he was entering the room as a guest and not as an employee.

Q was still at his laptop typing away and not appearing to have noticed Bond’s arrival.  James stood there feeling awkward and wondering if maybe this was an elaborate prank after all for several seconds before Quain shut the computer with a snap, walking over and wrapped his arms around James’ waist.  “I wasn’t sure you would actually come back,” he said quietly, licking his lips and looking so attractive that Bond couldn’t wait any longer, leaned forward and pressed his lips to the soft red mouth of the third in line for the throne.

“This is wrong,” he murmured as Q kissed him back over and over.  “This is so wrong.  I could get fired.  If your mother finds out…” he trailed off, though his doubts didn’t stop him from kissing Quain back with the passion he had felt for several weeks.  

“James, I may be a prince but I am also thirty two years old and, regardless of what the country may think, I am allowed to pick who I associate with,” were the last words either of them spoke for the rest of the night.  

At five the next morning, James woke disoriented and confused, finding himself still at work.  It wasn’t until Quain rolled over, throwing an arm over James’ bare waist that the events of the previous day came back to him.  He slipped from the bed and dressed as quietly as he could, leaving to shower and change before reporting back an hour and a half later.  

During the drive home Bond wondered why he wasn’t more freaked out.  He had slept with the man he was supposed to be protecting.  A Prince of England.  A man who would cause public outcry if he was in an open same sex relationship.  However, something deep within Bond felt calm even content thinking about what had happened.  Somehow he knew this wasn’t a fling and he knew himself well enough to know that he could continue to do his job well if it didn’t work out.

Coming back in the present, Bond smiled and kissed his young lover on the top of the head, noticing the man had fallen asleep on the short car ride.  “Quain, love,” he whispered, shaking the prince gently.  “Time to wake up,” he laughed, as Q looked up at him through sleepy eyes.

“Do I have to?” he whined, though there was a humour in his eyes and tone.  

Bond smirked, “You are about to meet with the Head of MI6.  I think it would be best to be completely awake, don’t you?”

Sighing, Q sat up, straightening his clothes.  “Probably but after the meeting, we’re taking a nap.”

James just shook his head fondly as they pulled up at the headquarters of Her Majesty’s secret service.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Whatever Bond had expected from the meeting with M, this certainly wasn’t it.  He was privilege to the Prince’s schedule but not always to the topic of the meetings.  However, James had known something was up when the director had asked not only Bond but his own secretary, a Miss Moneypenny, to stay for the discussion.  He sat and tried not to gape as the head of MI6 calmly and respectfully raked a Prince of England over the coals for repeatedly hacking their server without ever making a single accusation.  It was masterfully done and Bond had an increasing admiration for the man.  He also understood the reason he and Moneypenny were present.  With this kind of delicate situation it was better to have witnesses on both sides.  

“Your highness, you have to understand the severity of this situation.  The sole purpose of this agency is to protect the people of this country and your family in particular.  You can see how the access of our classified information by unauthorized individuals puts innumerable people in jeopardy.”

Bond held his breath as he saw Q open his mouth to speak.  God only knew what was about to come out of the young royal’s mouth.  “I think innumerable is a bit of an exaggeration.”  Bond’s trigger finger twitched as he glared at the younger man, silently willing him to stop talking.  Of course, Q continued on, a haughty tone in his voice.  “If you are just counting my immediate family, that number is five with the recent addition of Anthea.  If we are counting members of the household, that number rises to about one hundred at any given time.  There are around fourteen hundred members in Parliament between the two houses and approximately sixty three million citizens.  So as you can see Director, the term innumerable really doesn’t fit in this case.”   Bond wished they were in a normal relationship.  One where he could grab Q’s hand, drag him into the other room and lecture him the merits of shutting the fuck up.  Instead he resigned himself to closing his eyes before rolling them and forcing himself to not give away his displeasure.  There would be plenty of time for that tonight once they were alone.

“Pardon me, sir,” M said, probably not used to having address anyone by a title.  “I was merely using a turn of phrase.  I just meant that to have some unknown entity hacking into our system puts members of your own family as well as your subjects at risk.  It is my job to make sure that this country is safe from outside threats, and I am sure you will agree, most cyber terrorism would fall under that category.”  Bond breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that the Director wasn’t going to shoot the young royal though at the moment Bond felt he couldn’t really find fault with that idea.  Quain was a brilliant man, a caring lover, and a mildly popular prince.  But he was also a right prat who could never seem to keep his mouth shut, a fact which the Royal Family spent a good deal of time trying to keep out of the tabloids.

Q nodded thoughtfully at M’s words.  “Director, you are the head of the top spy agency in the country and one of the top in the world.  I do agree that cyber terrorism falls under the purview of your office.  However, if you cannot keep a simple hacker out of your systems, than I worry for the fate of this country.  Our spies should have the highest amount of technical expertise the country can provide at their fingertips.”   Q was right, of course.  Bond had often worried about some of the stories he had heard come out of MI6 about faulty intel and bad weapons.  Their technology was still in the Cold War days while the world had moved on.  They needed someone who could go in and clean things up, get them into the twenty first century and make it so a prince with too much time on his hands couldn’t just hack into the system to entertain himself.

If he had been a position to speak, Bond would also have pointed out that there were other faults in their agency which left them at risk for attacks beyond the cyber variety but his job was to stand there to support the Prince and protect him if necessary.  At this point, other than the possibility of having his ear chewed off by an irate bureaucrat, there was possibility of a threat.  “True, but I have reason to believe that this isn’t just a simple hacker but one whose skills are on par if not above the very best in the world.”  James’ lip quirked at this comment.  The man was good.  The way to Q’s heart was certainly through compliments.  “This person has tricks that have our own Q-Branch running in circles.  They’ve never seen code like this before and are unable to figure it out.  It’s a mess.”

Once again, James itched to be able to pull Q from the room before he opened his mouth.  The young royal had preened under the director’s praise and was sitting taller as it was.  Anything that he was about to say was likely to end in catastrophe.  “Director, it sounds like your Q-Branch as you call it is completely useless.  You need someone in there who can direct it to the newest technology, the new ways that terrorists are going to attack this country.  How do you think you are going to stop the newest threats if the geniuses in your employ are unable to do so?”  Bond sighed loudly through his nose before he was able to catch himself.  Q glared at him over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the director.

By some miracle the director just laughed.  “Yes, see that is exactly what I am looking for.  I need someone who can think on his feet, no matter what is thrown at him.  I need someone with a high degree of technical expertise and a subtle disregard for the rules.  While I realize that this may be unconventional but I would like to offer you a position.  We are currently looking for a Quartermaster and with your skills and experience I think you would be the perfect choice.”

Bond was stunned.  Sure, as the third son it was not likely that Q would ever inherit the throne.  His uncles and aunts had gone on to have successful careers in various industries.  Being royal did not keep him from having a life outside of his title.  But to be Quartermaster for MI6 could be more than a little dangerous and would be an unusual career choice for anyone who lived in the public eye.  However, at the same time, it made a lot of sense.  Who better to protect Quain then the people who had sworn their lives to do just that.  He could also be a part of something that would impact the lives of his entire country without having to be in the spotlight.  It would almost be frowned upon for him to do public events as it would put him in a large amount of danger.

The more he thought about it, the more Bond realized that this was the perfect choice for Quain.  He could continue to hack (though it would be legal now), stay away from the public functions he hated so much, and actually do something that would get him out of his room from time to time.   Bond could continue on as his bodyguard but might also be able to offer his own services to MI6 at the same time.  As far as James could see, this was the perfect solution.  

And so it came as a big surprise (though later Bond wondered why because he should have known) when Quain shrugged, “Thank you but no.  I much prefer working for myself.  Actually having to report to an office just does not appeal to me and I certainly am not good at taking orders.  I am not the MI6 type regardless of the skills I may or may not possess.”  His haughty manner caused Bond to bristle and he knew they would be having words as soon as they were safely back behind the doors of Quain’s room in the palace.

M took it in stride, probably knowing enough about the Prince to have expected as much.  “If you insist, but please remember the option is still there.  I highly doubt that we will find someone as skilled as you and the fact that you already have clearance for much of our work would certainly help move the process along.  Here is my card,” he said, sliding the bright white card across the desk, adorned with only a large black “M” and a phone number.  “Take it and give me a call if you change your mind.  Until then, please stay out of our servers.  It may be difficult to prosecute you with your title and familial connections but it would not stop us if you insist on keeping up your hacks.”

Appearing slightly chastened, the prince nodded before standing and leaving the room.  Bond nodded to M and Miss Moneypenny before following Quain to the car.  Q obviously knew that Bond would be displeased as he kept several steps in front of his bodyguard instead of walking beside him as had become their custom.  

Bond was grateful that Q was keeping his distance as his anger was simmering barely under the surface and he didn’t want to tabloids to get a view of Prince Quain’s bodyguard tearing him apart in front of MI6.  He took several deep breaths before they left the building, calming himself enough to do his job properly, checking both the perimeter and the car before standing back to allow Q to enter.  Quain barely acknowledged him and slid to the far side of the seat once inside.  As the car pulled away to take them back to the Palace, James couldn’t help but compare the atmosphere on the way to the meeting to the one now.  

He sighed, knowing he was in for a long afternoon.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The tension from the car ride didn’t dissipate in the slightest on the walk to Quain’s rooms.   There was an icy space between them and the door guards who generally joked with the two all kept their mouths shut and their eyes wide.  The relationship between Prince Quain and his bodyguard was the worst kept secret in the Palace but while everyone knew it was going on, they kept their personal business behind closed doors and no one had ever witnessed them having a domestic.  It seemed quite possible that the two men would not make it to the private quarters before the tensions finally boiled over.

Through sheer force of will, Bond managed to keep himself together until the door was closed.  But at that point, he could not hold his tongue any longer.  “Bloody hell Q.  That was the perfect opportunity for you.  What were you thinking?”  James’ eyes had taken on a steely quality and he glared unblinkingly at the Prince.  “I don’t care who you are.  You are never going to find another position like that one.  Do you think most people fall into terrific jobs by doing illegal activities?  You are bloody lucky that he isn’t prosecuting you as it is.  To offer you a job is just a testament to the fact that the man can see talent.  So tell, Quain.  Tell me what was going on in that head of yours that made turning down the position at MI6 make any sense.”

Quain walked slowly into his room, Bond could sense the electricity and he knew that a storm was brewing.  After saying his piece, he waited in silence, waited from the Prince to finally explain.  They had never had a true fight before but there was a first time for everything and it was clear that this was the time.

“Why should I?” Q said after a few moments, his words clipped and soft.  James wondered if Q was questioning why he should answer Bond’s inquiries but the Prince continued.  “Why should I work for them?  It is their job to protect me, to help me, not the other way around.  I am a Prince of England and I do not need to have a job with anyone, especially not within our own government.  They are just upset that I showed them to be weak and useless and are trying to save face.”  Kicking off his shoes, Q laid back on the bed, the perfect image of self assuredness.

“Why should you?” Bond asked, his voice rising slightly in his anger.  “WHY SHOULD YOU?  Because you are a Prince of England.  Because you are a brilliant programmer and hacker.  Because you could possibly be the best this country has to offer and as a member of the Royal Family you should want your country to have the best people working for it.  You should want what is best for your people and not just yourself.”  

James felt absolutely beside himself.  Sure, his lover had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, the ability to never have to work a day in his life and let people do everything for him.  It was what he had thought about Q and his brothers before he began working at the palace.  That they were probably rather lazy and let their staff do most of the work for him.  While James had never had a direct conversation with either of the older princes, he knew that both Sherlock and Mycroft worked tirelessly for England in their own unique ways.  Finding out that a bodyguard was the only staff that Quain kept on made him hope that the youngest was similar to the two older siblings.  But now, it was apparent that he was just a spoiled child who didn’t like to be scolded or told what to do.  He must have learned early on not to talk back to his mother or brothers but thinking back on the few interactions he had witnessed between Quain and other people of authority, he realized this was a pattern he should have noticed much sooner.

Quain rolled his eyes at James’ passionate retort.  “What has MI6 ever done for me?  They don’t do anything to keep me safe.  If they did, you wouldn’t have to be here, would you?”  The prince paused, realizing he had overstepped which would have given Bond a small amount of hope for the young man if he hadn’t been seeing red at the words that had come before.

“I don’t have to be here, Quain,” James responded, his voice deathly calm.  “There were plenty of other opportunities for me after I left the Navy.  Even an offer from the agency you just turned your nose up at.  And yet, I chose to come here.  To look after this Palace and then to look after you.  Because I believe in this country and I believe in the monarchy and I believe that you and your family have a right to feel safe even if you were born into a certain bloodline.  So no, I do not have to be here as your bodyguard.”

Barely pausing he continued, “And if I am so unneeded, then I do not need to be here as your boyfriend either.  I love you, Quain.  I have only ever loved one other person and she died while I was away at war.  I never thought I would feel this way again.  Then I met you and you turned my world upside down.  I come to work everyday because I am passionate about what I do.  I stay here every night because I am passionate about you.  However, if I am just the easy solution to you, then perhaps it is time for me to move on.”

James brought himself to attention,  the pinnacle of British professionalism, “I would ask your highness to please stay in your room until your new guard has arrived.  It should only be a matter of minutes, I am certain.  It is for your own safety.”

He turned and walked to the door, pausing briefly before turning the handle.  Before he closed the door, he said softly, “You are privliged to always be able to take the easy way, Quain.  It is part of your status and birthright.  However, the easy way is not always the right way.  And it certainly isn’t always the most pleasurable way.  I hope you come to that realization sooner rather than later.”  With that, he stepped from the room, shutting the door behind him.

Knowing that it was probably wishful thinking, Bond stood next to the door for thirty seconds, a small part of him hoping Quain would come rushing out and apologize for his error.  Though James knew better than that.  Pride and self confidence were two of Q’s strongest attributes and there was no way he could come grovel after a performance like that.  Even if he was second guessing himself, he would stay and wait for Bond to come back to him.  “Like hell that is going to happen,” James murmured under his breath before returning to the security office.  

Lestrade’s eyebrows shot up when James entered.  If Q was awake, Bond was with him.  He never left his charge unattended.  “What happened?” Greg demanded, knowing something catastrophic must have occurred to bring James to the office this early in the afternoon.

“Prince Quain is in need of a new bodyguard directly,” Bond said.  “I’ll take whatever position you have available.  Is the rooftop patrol still open?  It seems like a good spot to clear my head.”

Greg simply nodded and sent one of the senior guards to Quain’s quarters, warning him that the Prince may be in a bad mood and not to take anything said to him personally.  Q had a tendency to lash out when upset and the whole staff knew it.  Still, it was always better to warn someone who may not have experienced it personally.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lestrade asked when they were alone in the room.   He leaned back in his chair and looked at Bond as if he expected to hear a story.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Bond shook his head.  “When have I ever wanted to talk about it?  The good or the bad?  Whatever goes on behind that door when I am not on duty stays between the Prince and myself.  Now, is there an opening for rooftop guard or do I find myself back on door duty?”  He tried not to think about the sinking feeling in his chest or the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure he knew where his flat was anymore.  This day had started so well and was ending so poorly.

“Go relieve Anderson.  He’s been dying to get off the roof for ages.  He has a fear of heights but he’s a real prat and I needed to send him somewhere out of the way.  I would assign him to Prince Quain but I have a feeling the prince would make mincemeat of him in seconds.”

Bond took his dismissal and made his way to the roof.  It was not a select position, most of the younger guards starting out here as they had to deal with the elements and long hours with no distractions.  However, considering the state of Bond’s career and personal life, dealing with the elements and being alone seemed like the perfect scenario to him.

Taking a longer route than necessary to avoid passing the Prince’s quarters, Bond relieved an ecstatic Anderson who went downstairs to happily guard a door.  Bond began to make his rounds, taking in the view and the breeze, wondering if there was anything he could have done differently.  He could have caved and groveled and given in to Quain’s every whim as people had his whole life.  Even his hard nosed brothers tended to turn a softer eye to the baby of the family, letting him get away with more than they probably would have otherwise.  

Bond knew how lucky they were that Sherlock and Mycroft had been supportive of their relationship and kept it from the Queen, who would have not approved.   Privately, Bond had been told, she was in favour of marriage equality and equal rights for same sex couples, however when it came to her own family, they had an image to maintain as head of the church and stalwarts of traditional marriage.

Sighing, Bond looked out over the city that he had counted as his home for many years and at the Palace under his feet that had been his home for many months.  However, he now realized that in his heart, he considered his home to be with Quain.  And no longer able to have that, he wondered what he was going to do with himself from now on.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting this. I wish I had a better reason than 'I forgot' but honestly, I just forgot. Hopefully I will be on a better schedule from here on out! -J


	5. Chapter 5

Bond had never been friends with the other guards; in fact he barely even knew their names.  There was Lestrade, who Bond had to talk to as his boss but was a good man and always available with a word of advice for anyone who needed it, and Watson, a man he knew from his days in the service who now worked on the Queen’s personal security detail.  Other than those two, he never really got to know the other people, never really saw the point.  They all seemed nice enough but James was not known as the friendliest of people to begin with and once he took the position with Quain, he spent all his time with his charge and none of it socializing with his coworkers.  

Over the last three weeks, all that had changed.  Each day at lunch, Donovan or Dimmock, both door guards from the lower levels, would come up and eat with him on the roof, enjoying the view and passing the hour with idle chit chat that James let flow through his brain without much thought.  James liked Dimmock, thought the man would go far if he continued with security work.  At the same time, he was certain the man was on to bigger and better things, perhaps a career at Scotland Yard.  Donovan was obnoxious and grating but she was friends with Dimmock and James tolerated her for his sake.

At the end of the day, more often than not James would be found at the pub with Watson and Lestrade, James and John regaling their boss with tales of their days in the deserts of Afghanistan.  It turned out that Greg was a good mate and James began to realize what a good friend both he and John were.  It was almost like being back in the service and James realized just how much he had missed the camaraderie of brother in arms.  

One night after several pints, John asked if James really was sleeping with the Prince, having been rather displaced from the typical palace gossip that was kept as far from the Queen as possible.

With a sigh, Bond replied, “Yeah.  I was.  I love him, that prat.  But apparently it wasn’t meant to be.  I guess that was obvious though.  What prince is going to marry his security guard?  Add in the fact that it was his male security guard and I knew from the beginning that it was doomed.  I hoped for a better outcome but I was sadly not surprised when it happened.”  It was the most that he had ever said on the subject, the rule of never speaking of the Royal Family’s social lives extending to cover James’ relationship as well but it felt safe to tell John and Greg.  They understood the pressures of the job better than most and they were his friends, he realized that now.

John and Greg had nodded, accepting what James told them as truth.  He had no reason to lie and they both knew better than most how hard it would have been for James and Q to have continued their relationship much longer.   Greg suggested that James get back out there and find someone who could actually have a real relationship with him, causing John to volunteer information regarding all of James’ conquests from their time back in the Navy.  The conversation took a much less serious turn and the three men spent the rest of the evening laughing at their pasts.

The other perk to getting to know the rest of the security staff was that no one would tell Quain where to find Bond but all gladly reported back to James at the end of the day.  James told them it was quite unnecessary, that if Quain wanted to talk to him he was alright with it but they took it upon themselves to protect him, seeming to perceive the young royal as more of a threat than Bond really believed him to be.  

On a typical Tuesday morning, Bond entered the security office to find Donovan and Lestrade chatting over the coffee pot.  “James!  Just the person I wanted to see,” Donovan smiled, and James wondered what she was up to.  He knew that she had some run ins with some of the people in the Palace, mainly Prince Sherlock who berated her and called her an idiot on numerous occasions.  Watson often explained that he thought Sherlock meant it as a term of endearment but John had always been a bit of a peacemaker.  James was pretty sure that Sherlock was just abrasive, not endearing, and he and Watson had been known to have arguments about this over a few pints after they were both of work.  However, he had to agree with Sherlock’s assessment in this case.

“Oh yes?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  If he had to deal with workplace gossip, he needed caffeine and lots of it.  If he wasn’t about to go on duty, he probably would have added alcohol for good measure.  He had kept a bottle of Scotch in Q’s room and offhandedly wondered if it was still there.

“The prince has been driving everyone crazy,” she said without preamble, not bothering to specify which prince she was talking about.  “Terrorizing anyone who comes close to tell him where you have been stationed.  Since you don’t drive a car to work he has no way of knowing whether you are here or not and it is getting on his nerves.  He’s gone through four guards in the last week.  They’ve set up a rotation so no one else has to get yelled at for more than a day at a time.”  Bond schooled his features so she wouldn’t know how thrilled he was to hear this.  He didn’t want anyone getting close to the young man, certainly not so soon.

He thought she was done but as he turned to leave, she called out, “You did hear what happened to Johnson, didn’t you?”  

Bond stopped dead in his tracks.  A million possibilities ran through his head, each just as plausible as the last when Quain was concerned.  Johnson was a wildcard--a good guard but liable to run his mouth, something that would not go over well with the prince.  “No.  What happened?” he asked finally, keeping the chill from his voice as best he could.

Donovan’s eyes lit up at the prospect of spreading juicy gossip, “The story is that Johnson made the conclusion that he needed to emulate you.  The only guard who had managed more than a few months with Quain was the one who was sleeping with him so Johnson decided to hit on him and take his chances.”  Bond’s hands formed fists and he gritted his teeth.  While most everyone in the palace knew of the relationship, no one was actually supposed to acknowledge it, out of respect for the royal family as well as one of their own.  And the fact that this man had thought he could seduce Q just to make his own job easier caused James’ blood to boil.

Whatever the outcome of Johnson’s action, Bond was certain that he didn’t want to hear it, knowing that Q either destroyed Johnson or destroyed Bond depending on his response.  “Is that so?” he growled, pushing the door open.  “Excuse me.”

“Johnson was terminated that day,” Donovan called after him.  “I also heard that no one can find any record of him.  No birth certificate.  No employment history.  Nothing.   All emails to his personal account come back as undeliverable and both his house and mobile numbers are not in service.  It’s as if he never existed.”  James smirked as he left the room, not saying another word.  No one would ever find any digital information about the man again.   He smiled, thinking about how Quain had reacted.  Everyone always assumed he was some stupid prince who would never take after his brilliant brothers.  That was what Q wanted them to think.  Quain was quite possibly the smartest of the three of them and managed to keep it an absolute secret from everyone but his family and James.  

Up on the roof, James sat down for once, enjoying the peace and quiet of an empty castle.  The Queen was at an official event, as were two of her three sons.  Only a week after he and Quain had split, Mycroft had made the announcement that his wife was pregnant with their first child.  It had hurt James that he could not be there with Q to celebrate, both the announcement of his first niece or nephew but also the knowledge that Q would probably never have to take the throne.  Today was the family’s first events since the announcement and it was sure to gather a lot of attention.

Quain had managed to avoid the public functions yet again, having disappeared to parts unknown.  It used to be that he would take James to one of the smaller castles in Wales or Scotland, somewhere they could just be together.  Bond wondered who he was with and what they were doing.  Realizing that line of thinking was a lesson in masochism, he began his patrols, not realizing that everything was about to change.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Major Character Death in this chapter-
> 
> However, saying that, while the two characters are major in the series Sherlock, they are not vital to this story and have barely played any role, so maybe that is some comfort?
> 
> Anyway, James and Q are fine. Well, as fine as they can be, all things considered.

The radio alerts started coming in not long after one that afternoon, when the Queen was due to give her speech.  ‘Shots fired.  Agent down.’  Bond was in movement before hearing another word, securing the perimeter of the roof and having his weapon at the ready, even if the events were taking place several miles off site.  Heart pounding, James hurried to go through the checklist of things to do when the crown was under attack.  He thought about radioing to Greg, John, anyone but knew that everyone was dealing with the same panic that he was.

Within minutes, not even giving James enough time to get off the roof to report in for crisis duty, the second call came through, “The Queen has been shot.”   As the Queen’s personal guards went into action, getting her to the hospital and securing the area, panic set in around the Palace.  No British monarch had been assassinated since 1394 and everyone was terrified that it had just happened for the first time in over six hundred years and under their watch.  They had no idea what would happen to the country if their figurehead and leader was murdered in cold blood.

The next few hours were a blur of activity as every active duty guard was called in.  Princes Mycroft and Sherlock returned home immediately but no one could find Quain and he had managed to slip his guard, a fact that would result in the bodyguard’s immediate firing once he returned to the Palace.  James knew that he would be calling Q as soon as things settled down but for now had to focus on his job, pushing his worry for his young ex-boyfriend out of his mind.  Queen and Country, first.  Heart, second.  It was something he had sworn when he took this job and planned to abide by it until his dying day.

Bond knew in his heart that Q was safe.  He really didn’t need a bodyguard.  He was street savvy and brilliant.  He could be on his own for weeks if necessary and no one would even know who he was thanks to his hatred of the spotlight and knowledge of how to avoid every CCTV camera in London when necessary.  Before they became lovers, Bond had often found the young royal down at the coffee shop, having a cuppa and reading a book, no one else the wiser that they were in the presence of royalty.   

However, in spite of knowing all of that, he couldn’t help but worry.  Security matters took center stage in his mind and he tried not to think of what Quain must be feeling, the pain he would be suffering in order to do his job.  He knew everyone on the Queen’s security detail, though Watson was the only one he was close with.  He knew that they were all berating themselves for letting this happen on their watch and were all worried about whoever on their team had taken the bullet.  

Bond, being one of the best remaining agents they had that was not assigned to one of the Princes, was sent immediately to the hospital to help guard the Queen.  During this time, there was no way they were going to allow her detail to be even one man short and Bond had never been as thankful for his Aston Martin as he was at that time, making it to the hospital in only five minutes,. the traffic lights remarkably on his side.

Walking in, James felt his heart drop.  Every one of the Queen’s bodyguards were present.  Except Watson.  One look at them and he knew.  His friend was gone, one of the few people in the world James had ever let get to know the real him.  John went out doing what he loved, what he was born to do, but that would not be a comfort to his widow.  They had recently married and James was suddenly glad he had never met the woman as it was heartbreaking enough without having to picture her face in grief.  

James himself would need time to mourn.  He would need time to come to terms with what had happened but until the Queen was stable there was nothing to do but stand outside her door and wait for the best, his heart aching with the loss of his friend and his arms craving nothing more than to pull his former lover into an embrace, comforting him as they waited for the news of his mother.

The best did not come for the Queen and her family and the casualty list for the shooting was increased to two.  After three hours in surgery, the Queen died on the operating table from her wounds.  James watched as Mycroft was declared King there outside his mother’s operating room.  Everyone bowed appropriately and the new king took it with as much grace as he could having watched his mother be murdered.  Anthea held his hand and cried softly before curtsying to him herself.  James felt his heart break for the two of them, as well as the entire family.  

Within hours MI6 and MI5 had teamed up and found the shooter, who was arrested.  He was an anti-monarchist who took his views too far.  The movement was desperately trying to back pedal away from him, declaring him a terrorist and an extremist but the damage had been done and it would be a long time before anyone forgot or forgave that group.  MI5 was finishing up on the scene, only needing the statements of the witnesses, including the guards who now mourned the passing of a woman they had protected with their lives.

All James could think was that he wished it was he who delivered the news to Quain, whenever he turned up.  Sherlock stood stoically beside Mycroft and then nodded the moment the uttering of “God save the King” had died down.  James knew that even if security didn’t know how to find Q, Sherlock did and the youngest prince would be taken care of as well.

James barely made it home that night before a few tears fell.  He would never let anyone see him cry but it didn’t mean that he never did.  He drank a toast to John and one to the Queen and fell into an uneasy sleep on the sofa in his own flat.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys deserve a little happiness, don't you think?

The week following the death of the Queen was full of press, mourning, a funeral and a coronation. King Mycroft, choosing to eschew a more traditional name in favour of keeping the one his mother had given him and Queen Anthea did their best to comfort the public at the difficult time. Anthea made public appearances, the people cheering when they saw her and her rapidly growing belly. Even Sherlock spent time comforting the citizens, talking with Scotland Yard and meeting with John Watson’s family to offer the Royal Family’s condolences and thanks for his sacrifice.

Other than at the state funeral and the coronation ceremony, Quain was never seen by the public. Even at those events, no one saw him arrive or depart, only visible for the minimum time required before vanishing back into the palace where, if Bond were to believe the rumours, he never left his quarters, banning even his bodyguard from entering. 

James gave him two weeks following the assassination before he went to see Q. He wasn’t sure how the younger man would feel about seeing him but Bond needed to satisfy his own concern that Q was doing alright, coping in his own way. It had been five weeks since they had laid eyes on each other and James felt his heart break when he saw his former lover. He slipped inside the room, not even bothering to knock and ignoring the protests of the prince’s guards, locking the door behind him. What was to happen was to remain between them with no interuption. 

As James looked upon him, it was obvious Quain hadn’t been eating, he was desperately thin. His hair stuck out in odd directions, not in its usual (and in Bond’s opinion, adorable) fashion, but in a way that suggest he had been running his hands through it and tugging it nervously. 

What hurt James the most, however, was Quain’s eyes. The dark circles were bad enough but the lack of sparkle, the brokenness that was obvious to James from the moment he stepped into the room cut the bodyguard to the bone. When those green eyes met blue, a small amount of relief shone in them and Q pushed back from the desk and crossed the room in three steps, throwing himself into James’ arms. 

“Mama,” he said softly, sounding more like a sad little boy who had lost his mother than a prince of the greatest monarchy in the world. The prince cried into James’ shoulder, his grip tight as he loosed all the emotion he had been holding back for so long. James held him close, rubbing a hand up and down Q’s back. While he knew that they still had much to talk about, for the moment he simply relished having Q back in his arms.

Eventually, the prince’s tears slowed and his sobs subsided. Quain kissed James’ cheek and went to sit down on the bed, drawing his knees up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, hugging them close. James sat in one of the arm chairs near the bed and waited for Q to start talking. There was nothing he could say to make it better and he could only offer his presence and an ear.

“I had gone to Wales,. That house I took you to that one time, the one that is technically Myc’s even though he hates going there,” Q said after sometime, his voice sounding broken and his eyes far away. “No one would tell me anything about you. I knew you were still employed here but Lestrade insists on continuing to use pen and paper instead of computer so I had no way of knowing where he had stationed you without breaking into his office. And even I have limits.” He smirked sadly before continuing, “After that incident with the insufferable prat Johnson, who had found himself under the delusion that if I am well shagged, I am well behaved, I realized that I had made a mistake. That you were right.”

James resisted the urge to smile or say anything sarcastic and instead asked stoically, “What was I right about, your highness?”

Quain glared at him, “What have I told you about that, James? When it’s just us, I’m Quain.”

“I was unaware there was still an us,” James said before he could stop himself. The tears reappeared in Q’s eyes and James could have kicked himself for bringing it up right now. There would be time later. “I’m sorry. What were you going to say?”

Q sighed and looked at him silently for a moment. “I said you were right. I’m a spoiled, selfish brat. I’m thirty two years old and I still act like a small child. I ran away to Wales to think about everything that had happened. Everything that I had done and how lucky I had been to have you. That job was the best offer I was ever going to get and I should have trusted you instead of having a tantrum and acting like a little boy.” As his hand ran through his hair, Q looked as embarrassed as James had ever seen him. “I called M back and accepted the position.”

James smiled a little and nodded, determined not to gloat. “Good for you,” he said simply.   
His pleasure was short lived as Quain continued, “Well, I accepted it on one condition.” The Prince must have recognized the distaste on James’ face as he hastened to add, “The condition was that you be offered a position as well. If you want it of course.”

Knocked speechless, James simply stared at the royal for the longest time. Brows knotted together in confusion, he finally asked, “Why?”

Prince Quain stood and walked over to sit in James’ lap. His eyes shone with sincerity and tears when he smiled, “Because I love you and I have for a very long time. I thought if I did something like that you would forgive me for being so stubborn, hot headed, and selfish. The MI6 job is the second best thing that has ever happened to me. After you. And if I can’t have you, if I ruined everything we had between us, then I don’t deserve that job or anything that would give my any pleasure.” A few tears had fallen as Q spoke and James leaned in to kiss them away.

“I love you too, Quain,” James replied softly. “I do forgive you but the fact still remains that even with very little chance of ever sitting on the throne, tradition says that we can’t be together.”

Smiling sadly, Quain cupped a hand over James’ cheek, “Tradition is wrong and someday the people will see that. But until then, can’t we just be happy?” 

James nodded and closed the distance between them, kissing Q for what seemed like the first time. There was still much that needed to be said but for now, being together was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Know what this fic has been missing? Smut. 
> 
> That will be rectified, soon. Stay tuned.


	8. Chapter 8

All the emotion, all the stress of the past few weeks was built up in that kiss and without much thought, he picked up the smaller man and carried him to the bed, lying him down before James reclined next to him.  He trailed one hand up Q’s stomach, flicking the buttons of the prince’s shirt open one at a time.  His eyes never left Q’s and he marveled at how he had gone so long with looking at this man.  James Bond had never anticipated falling in love.  That the love of his life was a man and that he was a Prince of England were so far from the realm of possibility that it was almost laughable if it were not for the fact that he stood face to face with the truth and could not be happier about it.

As his shirt was opened, Quain started to make those delicious noises that James loved so much and the bodyguard felt himself grow even harder in response.  He nipped at the newly exposed skin, marking the prince again and again.  No one but the two of them would see the marks but they would both know they were there, a visible sign of the love the two of them shared.  

James slipped the shirt from Quain's shoulders, standing back to look at the thin frame of the prince.  "When was the last time you ate?" he asked softly, hands resting on Q's back, thumbs stroking his sides and feeling every bone underneath.  

"I don't remember.  Didn't seem important," Q muttered in reply, throwing his hands around James' neck and kissing him as if trying to make his love forget the words he had just said.  James knew that he would be calling the kitchen the moment they were done and Q would eat before they fell asleep.  The younger man had been careless in the past but this was something more.  This was a deep seated grief and Q had no one to turn to in that sadness.  His lover was gone, one brother was trying to pick up where their mother left off and the other continued to be emotionally unavailable.  The fact that Quain had suffered so much had never occurred to James until that very moment.  Of course Q would be sad but to be so alone, even in a building filled with people wasn't something he had considered but knowing Q as he did, he should have.

Q moved his head, kissing James' neck and biting him hard, pulling him out from his own mind and back into the moment.  Q had managed to remove his shirt, hands running over James' own chiseled chest, murmuring how much he had missed James, how sorry he was.  It was James' turn to stop his lover with a kiss and he did so while unbuttoning the front of Q's trousers, sliding the belt from its loops and dropping it to the floor with a distinctive thud that neither of them heard.

James pushed Q back onto the bed once their clothes had been removed and he marveled at how beautiful Quain truly was.  It amazed him that this man loved him but he wasn't going to take it for granted again.  What they had was different, was special and he would be a fool to walk away once more.  

James positioned himself over Q.  They kissed deeply, sensually for a long while, hands reacquainting themselves with their lover’s body.  The feel of skin on skin was nearly orgasmic on its own and James needed like he had never needed before.  He reached for the side table where he knew that Q kept lube and condoms.  Grabbing both, he returned to Q’s body, kissing his way down the slim form until he reached his destination.  Without any warning, James engulfed Q’s cock with his mouth, swallowing around him as he took the man to his base.  James moaned loudly, the taste of his lover flooding his senses and everything he knew was replaced with the sight, the sound, the smell and the taste of Quain.  

For his part, Q arched up, needy and wanting for every touch James gave him.  He tangled his hands in James’s hair, tugging at the golden strands, encouraging him to go farther since he found himself no longer capable of words.  This was what they both needed.  They needed to reconnect on a primal level before they could talk and move forward in an emotional one.  

James lubed one finger and slid along Quain's crease, circling the puckered hole once before pressing in.  So tight, so hot and James found himself moaning along with his younger lover, his cock hot and heavy against the mattress where it sat untouched for now.  He wanted to focus on Q.  He could wait.

Adding a second and then a third finger, James prepped his lover gently, carefully, making sure that Q was ready before he finally slid his mouth from Quain's length and sat up, rolling on the condom and covering himself with lube while looking down at the prince who looked utterly debauched underneath him.  "Stop staring and get on with it," Q demanded, a twinkle of amusement in his eye with a touch of desperation in his words.  James couldn't wait any longer either and, lining himself up, pressed in at a deliciously slow rate, enjoying each and every millimeter of heat that granted him entrance.  Finally he found himself fully seated and propped himself on his elbows to kiss Q while the younger man adjusted to the intrusion.  

He knew Q was ready when Quain wrapped his legs around James's waist and lifted his hips, causing both to cry out in bliss at the movement between them.  Moving together, the heat built, words of love were expressed and, in a testament to how long it had been since they were together, James spilled after only a few minutes.  He gripped Quain's arousal and stroked his lover to completion while he softened inside the prince's body, finally slipping out and falling to the side, utterly spent and completely blissful.  

"I love you, James," Q muttered, rolling his head to the side to look at his former bodyguard, his own come drying on his chest.  "I was a prat and I really am sorry.  You will take me back, right?"

The words were a change of pace for the young royal and James found himself momentarily struck dumb, listening to the young man admit his faults for what might be the first time in his life.  Rolling on his side to meet Q halfway, James kissed him deeply, one hand in Q's hair as he pulled the prince as close as possible.  He couldn't do anything but forgive Quain.  James's heart and soul resided with the man and James knew that they needed each other now more than ever.  The loss of the Queen and James's closest friend still weighed heavily on them both and each needed a shoulder they trusted to cry on during this difficult time.

"Of course, love," James smiled, stroking his hand through Q's hair in a gentle motion.  He hadn't felt this happy since the morning before they had separated.  He was home, here in the palace.  There was nowhere else in London that felt more like home to him, which seemed presumptuous but he lay here in the arms of the prince, still third in line for the throne as if this was the place he belonged.  "But we need to know what we are going to do.  The matter remains that you are a prince of England and I am a bodyguard, we are both male, and the church will never allow it."  

Quain shook his head, obvious that it was not something he wanted to discuss right now but James would not let it drop.  Knowing how stubborn the bodyguard was, Q sighed, "I plan on talking about this with Mycroft.  There is no reason that I cannot be with you.  We are both going underground, we won't have a public life anymore after we join MI6.  I think we can marry, have the palace issue a small announcement about it and then fade away.  People will forget about it and we can live our lives."

It seemed naive to James.  He couldn't see how people would forget that a direct descendant of the Windsor Holmes family could be in an open same sex marriage and not have it be the topic of conversation for years to come.  But Q seemed adamant, so he smiled, "Talk to Mycroft.  See what he has to say.  From there, we can figure out how to move forward.  But I'm not losing you again."

Q seemed relieved by those words and both men fell into a deep sleep, trading kisses and caresses until unconsciousness took them for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to tumblr user a-nonny-mouse for helping with beta!


	9. Chapter 9

As strange as it seemed, Q and James fell into their old routine as simply as riding a bicycle.  James slept at the palace every night and spent his days guarding the young royal.  He occasionally broached the subject of their relationship but Q always had an excuse as to why he hadn't talked to Mycroft yet.  The King was busy and James could understand to a point but it also seemed that Quain was stalling, almost afraid that he could have been wrong.  Again.

One night, Q was acting strangely: never sitting still, fidgeting when he did actually sit down, glancing at the clock several times a minute.  The signs of anxiety were easy to spot and James pulled him into a hug, kissing his temple, even though he was still technically on duty.  They had gotten more lax with their displays of affection, at least when it was just the two of them.  "What is bothering you?  Why don't you sit down and relax?  You are making me nervous."  

Instead of doing what James suggested, Quain shook his head and, taking the bodyguard by the hand, led him from the room and to a back staircase James knew led to the roof.  He had spent enough time there during their time apart that he knew every route to the roof and could find his way there even in the dark.  "Where are we going?" he finally demanded, knowing Quain would hear the real question: Why do we need to be on the roof?  He had avoided the roof ever since that fateful day of the Queen's assassination, having it bring too many memories and latent fears for his lover's safety.  

Q's answering smile told James that there was nothing to worry about so he let his fears be replaced by curiosity.  Quain was a genius and when he had an idea, it was often pulled off with spectacular efficiency. MI6 was gaining a strong asset with him when they both started at the beginning of the year. Until then, James intended to enjoy every moment of the life of leisure they had carved out for themselves in the palace.

It was when they got to the roof that James finally understood what was going on.  Hidden from street view, a small section of the roof was covered in blankets and pillows.  The staff, it appeared, had laid out a large meal more fit for a banquet downstairs then here on top of the palace under the stars.  Fairy lights had been strung around and other than that, the only light was from the glow of the city spreading out beneath him.  It looked like something from one of the romantic movies Q would never admit to watching and James smiled, pulling him close.  "You did all this?  What is the occasion?"

There was a war of emotions crossing Quain's face which finally settled into something of a nervous smile.  "I had planned on waiting until dessert but I don't know if I can make it that long."  Eyes widening, James watched as the prince dropped to his knee, pulling a small box from his pocket.  Quain took a deep, shuddering breath before he began to speak.  "James Bond before you came into my life, I was drifting.  I drove away anyone who tried to get close, relying only on my brothers for my social needs.  A spoiled brat who thought of nothing but myself."  A tear fell from Quain's eye, James brushing it away with his thumb as he himself blinked to stop from crying as well.  "The moment you walked into my quarters, I knew that life as I had known it was over.  There was something about you that told me you were the man who would change my life, the one who would stand by me and help me become the prince I was meant to be.  And when we told each other how we felt, when I learned that you loved me in a way that no one had before, I didn't know if I could ever let you go."  

Quain was crying by this point and James knelt down in front of him, kissing each cheek as the prince struggled to continue.  "When you left me, when you walked away, I thought I would never recover.  I vowed to never let anyone else in and even pushed away my family.  I pushed away Mummy and she died thinking I didn't love her."  James shook his head.  He had never met the queen before but there was no way that she could have confused a heartbroken son for one who didn't love her.  He knew she was a brilliant woman in her own right - she had to be with the three sons she had - and she would understand.  But Quain continued, ignoring James, "And it is sad that it took the death of my own mother for me to realize what I was doing.  And that was the moment I grew up.  I looked for you everywhere.  I wanted to tell you I had changed, you were right all along but you were hiding from me.  I needed you more than ever and you were gone because of me.  I stopped eating.  I stopped sleeping.  I did whatever I could to take the pain away."

Tears streamed from James' eyes too.  They had never talked about what Quain went through during their separation and Bond couldn't fathom the amount of pain the young prince had to be in.  

"When you came back, I thought I had seen an angel, an apparition.  Finally, I was getting some relief.  But you were real, and you were there, and you still loved me in spite of everything."  He smiled through his tears, looking up at Bond with reddened eyes.  "I will never be perfect, James.  I will never be the prince that Sherlock is or the king that Mycroft has become.  I will make mistakes.  I will be difficult to live with.  But in the end, I will love you with my heart and soul from now until the day I die.  And if, by chance there is an afterlife, I will walk with you, side by side, for all eternity if you will have me."  Quain opened the box he held in his hand, a thick gold band with his own personal crest engraved on it.  "James Bond, you are the love of my life.  You are my rock, my heart, my home.  Will you do the honour of marrying me?"

James found that he had no words and simply nodded, pulling Quain into his arms and kissing the prince with all the love he felt.  Finally, he choked out, "Yes, Quain Windsor Holmes, I will marry you."

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

James woke late the next morning, Q's head pillowed on his chest, hair tickling his nose. Knowing that he should clock in to work in less than five minutes, he sent a text to Greg saying that he would be late but that he had made sure the Prince would be protected until he was on duty. Not that there was really any doubt about that. Everyone in the palace knew of their relationship now, even the crown. What Mycroft thought of it, James wasn't sure but the fact that the king hadn't reassigned him yet was a good sign that it wasn't entirely displeasing to Quain's eldest brother. 

Receiving a terse reply, James set his phone to the side and gathered the smaller man in his arms. He hadn't thought it was possible to love Quain anymore than he already did but the night before had proven otherwise and James thanked any deity who was listening for bringing his life together with the life of this prince. There was still much to discuss but even if they never went past an engagement, simply knowing that Quain wanted this as much as he did gave the bodyguard a reason to smile. He carded his hand through Q's hair, smiling fondly whenever he caught the glint of gold on his ring finger. 

When Quain woke, his face was clouded with confusion and sleep, unused to waking up in the protective arms of his now fiancé. It was adorable, especially to the bodyguard who knew that very few people ever saw the secretive prince so unguarded and open. He kissed Quain with soft lips, drawing him into consciousness as gently as possible. The night before had been emotionally tiring - in the best possible way - but James knew that Quain would need some time before he awoke fully. 

As the door cracked open with the steward bringing breakfast, James pulled the duvet up to their chests, covering their nudity as best he could. While it was a known thing that the prince and his bodyguard slept together, this would be the first time anyone had ever walked in on them in bed together. James usually had been out of bed long before anyone came by to complete their palace duties. Even in the innocent embrace they were sharing, James felt exposed and wished to protect his fiancé from the scrutiny they were facing. The hand with his ring went to Quain's hair, cupping the back of his lover's head protectively as he glared at the intruder. The steward, for his part, looked as uncomfortable and embarrassed as a man could and he did his best to look anywhere but at the two men in bed. He briefly met James’ eyes, the look given to him would have committed murder alone if looks possessed that ability. James gave him a quick nod, the meaning of which was clear: You tell anyone and your head is mine.

The steward squeaked and rushed from the room, latching the door behind him. It wasn't until he was gone that James relaxed and kissed Quain's hair. "Breakfast is here, love. You need to wake up and eat. We forgot to finish dinner last night and you need food." When they reunited, Quain began eating once more but he was still too skinny for James' liking, something that the agent dealt with carefully. Subtle prods to eat meals and tender kisses to the places where Q had rounded slightly. Compliments flowed from the bodyguard like water and Q in return had blossomed. James could not remember a time where Q looked happier or healthier and while the losses of friend and family in the assassination still weighed on their minds, Q and James were both ready to move on with their lives.

Quain's eyes fluttered open once more and he pouted softly at James, "I don't wanna." The prince gave him a sad look before closing his eyes and attempting to bury his face in James’ neck, hiding from the fact that morning had come and they needed to leave the comfort of their bed.

Eyes rolled toward the sky as James chuckled, "Why do I even put up with you?" He pulled back to lift Q’s chin up, kissing the pout from Q's lips. "Should I try again. Tea is here, love, and you haven't had any since around four yesterday." Watching Quain's eyes light up at the word tea had James rolling his eyes once more, shaking his head fondly. "Sometimes, you are too easy."

"Pfft, you've met me. I am anything but easy," Quain giggled with an indignant air, something James had never imagined possible in a grown man before meeting Q, and James slipped from the bed, pulling the cart closer and pouring two cups of tea, preparing both in the way they both liked it. Quain often criticized James for the amount of sugar he used, saying it was the perfect way to ruin Earl Grey. For all his intelligence, Q had yet to figure out that James only did it because Q would kiss the sweetness from his lips after every cup. Sherlock, who had figured it out and snorted in disgust, didn't say anything to Quain, uncharacteristically quiet on the matter. Though the middle child still pulled a face whenever they drank tea together. He could never manage to be completely un-Sherlocky, after all.

After handing the tea to Quain, James sat back down next to his lover in the bed, sipping his own drink as he reclined back against the plush headboard. “We should talk about last night,” he said softly after a few minutes of silence had passed. Even those who never spoke directly of their relationship were bound to notice the ring the bodyguard now wore on his left hand. The news was going to spread quickly and if it was mentioned to someone outside the palace that the prince was engaged to his male bodyguard, the tabloids would be all over it. “If I keep wearing this ring, as I intend to do, we should probably make this public. This information should be released by the palace before the press gets ahold of it first. Offense is the best defense.” James had never been in the public relations part of the Navy - his priority had been the mission, not public reaction to it - but he knew how the commanding officers dealt with things that could have brought controversy to the service. If ever military life applied to his new profession, it was now.

Quain said nothing at first, acting for all the world that he had not heard anything. Eventually, he set his tea down and looked towards James. “You sound like Mycroft. I spoke with him last week, informed him of my intention to ask you for your hand. I was going to do it, regardless of what he said but protocol states that I must inform him of these decisions before I go forward. He told me that he already knew and that you would say yes. The only thing to worry about was how we would make the announcement. His P.R. staff worked something up but nothing would be published until we were both ready.” As Quain spoke, he left the bed to pad across the plush carpet, foot falls barely audible as he opened the drawer of his desk, removing a piece of paper which he brought back to his lover. “This is what they have so far. We are more than welcome to change things as we see fit but Mycroft and his staff gets final say.”

James looked at the small notice, something formal and proper but leaving no doubt that the Prince had chosen a man to be with him for the rest of his life.

HRH Prince Quain and Lt. J Bond  
The engagement is announced between Quain, son of the late Queen Philippa and Prince Edmund, and James, son of the late Monique Delacrouix-Bond of Paris and Andrew Bond of Edinburgh.

He read it a few times, hands tightening on the paper as his eyes filled with tears that he blinked away. That they had included his parents, not just making this about the Holmes family, but Bond’s as well, made this feel more real than he could have imagined. This wasn’t just an attempt to grab attention on the part of the crown (though the press would undoubtedly say it was), this was their lives and their love. Including James’ parents, even though they had been dead for so long, hit him hard and slowly he let the paper fall from his hands to his lap, eyes blinking as he scanned the room numbly until he found Q. 

“A bit not good?” Quain asked, kneeling next to the bed and placing his hands on James’ arm. “We can change anything you want. I wanted to show you that I agree that the world needs to hear about this from us and I want to do this properly. This was the best way I could think of.”

James shook his head back and forth several times as one of the tears fell, not even bothering to hide what he would have seen as weakness at any other time. “Quain, this is more than I ever hoped. I expected that any announcement would be about the Crown and about maintaining face for the royal family. To see my parents here, to have it completely open and public…” He sighed as he tried to find the words. “I love you and I will be honoured to be your husband.”

A bright smile tugged at the prince’s lips and he threw himself into James’ arms, kissing him numerous times. “I love you, too, James. And enjoy this brief moment of fame. Once we start our jobs in six weeks, we go underground and hopefully never see the spotlight again.” James knew that the appeal of staying out of the public eye was bigger for his fiancé - a man had lived his whole life in front of cameras - than it was for him but either way, it would be nice to be able live their lives without daily commentary from the public and the press. MI6 had promised them a safe house with private transportation to and from work. From what Quain had told him, they would never even have to set foot outside ever again if they so chose.

“What about MI6? Has anyone consulted them on the risks it would pose for either of us to put ourselves out there so blatantly?” They were both going into a field where secrecy was going to be their greatest weapon. With Quain already a household name, drawing attention to themselves by being in an open same sex relationship could bring even more criticism to the two of them and the crown. “Maybe it would be best if we just kept this to ourselves and disappeared.” 

Quain’s head shook violently and the scowl on his face told James immediately that he had said the wrong thing. “Trust me. You know better than anyone how good I am at hiding both in front of the camera and away from it. No one will ever find us to take a picture, you have my word on that. I haven’t spoken to M but if this is going to be a deal breaker for him, then it is a deal breaker for me as well. I want everyone to know that I am marrying you and if MI6 can’t handle that, then we will find someplace else to go.” As Q spoke, Bond thought about his mother’s familial home in Paris, the one that he still owned. If they had to go away, that would be a wonderful place to do it. Even if it was in his name, he had all the confidence that Quain could throw off a misdirection that would send the reporters scrambling and never finding the story they were looking for.

“Alright. Tell Mycroft that as far as I am concerned, this is perfect. I look forward to seeing the press have a meltdown over this.” That may have been putting it a little strongly but, in the end, it was Mycroft and Quain who would take the brunt of the criticism. James was certain they would find some dirt on him - his military record was bound to come up - but he could handle it. To see Q smile the way he did, made any bad press worth it.

Q was beaming and set his tea down to climb into James’ lap, knees bracketing his lover’s hips. “Good. I will tell him and it will run immediately.” He kissed James’ neck, nuzzling his face against the stubble that had grown over night. “And the day before it runs, Mycroft would like to have dinner with us. I’m afraid there is no getting out of it.” Quain’s lips caught James’ effectively cutting off the argument that bodyguard was about to make and silencing him for another hour after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to tumblr user [put-the-needle-through](http://put-the-needle-through.tumblr.com) for their editing skills.


	11. Chapter 11

James straightened his tie for what felt like the hundredth time. Nimble fingers brushed his away and Quain fixed it once and for all. Relaxing under his lover’s gaze, James smiled a little though the nerves still raged inside him. He had been in the Navy. He had killed people. But nothing had prepared him for officially meeting Quain’s brother who also happened to be the King of England.

“Stop thinking so loud, it’s distracting,” Q muttered, hands still resting on James’ chest. “It is just dinner with my family. You don’t even have to wear this suit. I told you to dress comfortably.”

“And this is as comfortable as I can get when meeting the King. Forgive me if I never grew up with the man.”

Q snorted and waved off James’ words. “I barely knew Mycroft growing up. He was away at boarding school by the time I was born and when he returned it was my turn to go away. We have always been polite but I wouldn’t say that our relationship is close or even familial. I suppose I love him because he is my brother but he wasn’t there when I was child. Sherlock and I were much closer.” This revelation didn’t surprise James who had often heard Q speak fondly of the middle brother of the family. The terms Quain used were often derisive but one would have to be blind not to see the love the Q held for him. Even Sherlock, who appeared to be an emotionless clone as far as James was concerned had a soft spot when it came to the youngest of the family. And the fact that he had threatened James with the knowledge that if Sherlock killed him, no one would ever find the body, drove home the notion that Sherlock was protective of Quain to an extreme degree. Though, James was pretty sure that he was about to get a similar threat from Mycroft. “You are thinking again. Stop it.” Quain’s eyes were amused and he patted James on the chest before walking back to the closet to get his shoes. “Dinner is at six so we should probably head over soon. Mycroft hates to be kept waiting and I know they scheduled it around Elizabeth’s sleep times.”

When he emerged, hair still sticking up at every angle and dressed in jeans and an old t shirt, James sighed and rolled his eyes. “You look like you are fifteen years old and just got out of bed. Don’t you think you could put a little effort into your appearance tonight of all nights?”

“James, it’s my brother. Stop thinking about this as a State dinner and think about it as dinner with the future in laws. If you bow or your majesty either of them at dinner, I will box your ears, do you understand me?”

Knowing when to keep his mouth shut, James simply nodded and offered his arm to Quain who grabbed his hand instead. They walked in silence to the other part of the palace where the king’s quarters were; James mulling over how he was going to behave in front of the king in order to earn the man’s support and Q thinking about what they would be having for dessert. Quain’s nonchalance irked James but he still said nothing, deciding that having grown up in this life gave Q some freedom to not worry as much others when it came to royal events, even casual ones. This was not a part of the palace that James had been to before but he knew the general layout, all the guards did. Still, Q tugged on his hand, leading him toward the door to Mycroft’s home.

Without knocking, the young prince barged in, calling “Hullo, Mycroft and family!” as they entered. James looked sheepish, following him in, repeating family dinner - family dinner in his head over and over.

“And here I thought that marrying a military man would have improved your manners, Quain,” came the drawling voice of the leader of their country. “Yet, it seems that is not the case. Do you have no care for how you are embarrassing him?” Mycroft rose from an armchair near the fire where he had been reading the evening news and made his way to the couple who were still in the doorway. “I do not believe we have had the pleasure, Lieutenant Bond. I am Mycroft. Anthea and our daughter will be out shortly.”

Despite Quain’s warning, James bowed his head and said clearly, “Your Majesty. The pleasure is all mine.” Quain fumed silently, anger shining in his eyes while the king’s lips turned up in the hint of a smile.

“I am pleased to see you haven’t cowed to his desire to be completely informal. Young Quain has never been one for the decorum due to us because of our station. However, in this situation, he was correct. That isn’t necessary tonight. You are here as family, not subject.”

James resisted rolling his eyes once more, this time at the smug look on Quain's face. Instead, he nodded and smiled politely, "Thank you, sir. What shall I call you? Sir seems to be the most polite but it might get redundant throughout the evening."

"Mycroft, please."

"Or Mikey!" Quain chimed in, snickering at the look on the king's face. "That's what I called him when I was little and the R sound was too difficult for me. He never did forgive me for that I think. Maybe that is why I'm not allowed to talk with the press."

"You are encouraged to talk with the press, Quain. You are the one who chooses not to do it."

James leveled Quain with a look, "That's what I keep telling you. Stop whining so much about attention when you know for a fact that you don't want any." Mycroft nodded his approval at James words, obvious this was a conversation the eldest had had with the youngest numerous times.

Anthea entered the room at that moment, tiny baby Princess Elizabeth in her arms. "I apologize for my tardiness, Bet needed her nappy changed and the nanny has left for the night." She gave a Mycroft a look and placed Elizabeth in his arms. "You can lead a country but you can't change a nappy. Honestly, Mycroft."

The king sighed and James reached for Q's hand, squeezing it gently. He finally understood what Quain had meant. This was truly a family dinner. No one, not even the guards saw this side of the Royal Family. They were too private of people to let anyone view them as real.  They were the leaders of the country, idols to be looked upon.  The Windsor-Holmes’ knew their role in society but that did not stop them from loving each other and acting like any other family.  Squabbles were kept inside the family as it would not due to have the king and queen get into a domestic in front of the cameras.  But watching Mycroft with his daughter, watching him hold the tiny child and kiss her forehead as if she were the most precious thing in the world, James truly understood the balancing act that happened in this family.  He would need to learn his role, to figure out how he fit in.  Maybe sometime he would talk about it with Anthea at some point.  Though at least she was born into the aristocracy.  James had fallen into this life by coincidence.

Sensing that James was getting distracted by his own thoughts, Quain squeezed his hand once more and nodded toward the table.  Anthea and Mycroft were already making their way there, Elizabeth safely ensconced in a baby swing in the room, babbling at the ducks that floated from the mobile overhead.

As dinner was served, the conversation changed from small talk to the topic at hand.  “Tomorrow your relationship will be public.  We need to have a plan how to go forward.  Never in the history of the monarchy has a direct descendent from the throne been in an openly same sex relationship.”  The fact that Mycroft said openly caught James’ attention and he hoped he would remember to ask Quain about that some other time.  “Do either of you have any thoughts on how you would like my office to respond?”

Quain looked as confused as James’ felt and it was the prince who spoke first.  “Why do you need to respond at all?  Shouldn’t the announcement be enough to let them know that you are supportive of our decision to marry?”

Mycroft nodded, “At first, yes.  However, we will face questions from the press as well as Parliament and the Church.  We must be prepared to answer with something mutually agreed upon by all parties in this room.  Sherlock has already stated that he will support anything we decide as this does not affect him in any way.”

As the head of the Church of England, Mycroft was in a difficult situation.  He was supposed to support the church’s stance that marriage should be between one man and one woman but at the same time, he was a brother who wished for his family to be happy.  James did not envy the position they had put him in.  If there had been time, he would have rethought the announcement but even now the papers were being printed.

The group fell silent, the only noise being Baby Bet’s babbling from the far side of the room, as they considered the problem.  In the end, it was James who spoke up.  “I believe the response will need to be different depending on who is raising objections.  For the public and the press, I believe Quain and I should make ourselves available for questions.”  Seeing Q’s unhappy expression, James took his hand. “It is only right that they hear it from us.  That they know this is not a publicity stunt or an attempt to make your family look more progressive in a time when the monarchy is seen as stuffy and outdated.”  He continued, “For the Parliament, make it clear that with the arrival of Bet, the chance Quain will ever take the throne is slim to none.  Propose a bill that suggests if a sitting monarch finds themselves in a same sex relationship, it will be similar to a ruling queen, with the spouse being a lower ranking, Prince or Princess depending on the gender of the sovereign.  As for the church, issue a statement that while you strive to uphold the traditions of the church, with it so impacting your own family as many others under your rule, that you find it morally wrong to impose such rules upon others who do not believe as the church does.  It will be controversial and I am sure many bishops will protest but you are their king and in the end, they must comply with your desires.”

Quain smiled and nodded, obviously agreeing with everything James just said.  Eventually Mycroft nodded as well, “I suppose that makes the most sense. If or when you feel the need to address the media, my office can make the necessary arrangements.  If Parliament has an issue, I will suggest what they have to say.  As for the church, I do not know how well that will go over but let me handle it.  Your marriage will be a civil one, not a religious as the church will not recognize the union but as Quain has never been one for attending services, I hardly see how that will deter you.”

“Instead of addressing the media directly,” Quain chimed in, obviously anxious to get away from any situation where he needed to talk to the press, “what if we invited some select outlets to the wedding?  I don’t want it televised or broadcast but I would be alright with a few pictures and some articles in the paper.  I want people to see that I love this man.”  The prince turned to look at James, “I know you think that talking to them would help but I don’t think it will.  I have the tendency to speak before I think and that often ends badly as you know all too well.  I would feel better if we could show them our love instead of talking about it.”

He had a point, James knew that.  But at the same time, Quain didn’t give himself enough credit.  Yes, when he spoke off the cuff, he often put his foot in his mouth, the incident with MI6 coming to the forefront of James’ mind.  However, when he thought about the man’s proposal, of how true and free he spoke, James knew that sometimes when Quain opened his mouth the people around him were treated to nothing short of poetry.  He did understand Quain’s concern and in the end, he nodded in agreement.  “Mycroft, make a list of acceptable press and they can be invited to the ceremony,” James said, never taking his eyes from Q.

Dinner passed smoothly after that.  Conversation changed to the latest milestones that Elizabeth had reached and the excitement James and Q both felt over their new jobs.  James had expected some talk of the wedding but in the end, they let that entire topic drop, knowing there was more to get through before then.

That night, they retired to their quarters, falling asleep in each other’s arms and knowing that nothing would be the same when they awoke.

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

_“In shocking news from the Royal Family today…”_

_“We’ve always wondered about the youngest brother of King Mycroft and now we finally have our answer.”_

_“Who is Lieutenant James Bond?  We dig deep to get the full story.”_

_“They have infiltrated Buckingham.  It is time for all good Christians to rally against this attack of crown and country.”_

_“We will be demanding the King attend an emergency Parliamentary meeting to explain this information and why we were not informed.”_

_“I am beyond thrilled with this news.  I am hoping the prince and his beau will be my guests for a dinner sometime in the near future.”_

 

All the media could talk about was the engagement of an English prince to a man.  Some were complimentary, some were accusatory, some were downright rude.  Nearly everyone was shocked and surprised.  The way the announcement was made brought about some criticism, many having thought the Crown should have issued an official announcement.  For the first few hours, the two men at the center of the conversation were blissfully unaware that it was even taking place, sound asleep within the palace walls.

When they finally woke well past sunrise, Q grabbed his laptop, James turned on the television and together they began to take stock of what was happening and how they would need to proceed.  While James fretted, Q looked ecstatic as he passed the laptop over, “Stephen Fry wants to have us over for supper!  We have to go!  That would be a dream come true.”  The look of excitement on Quain’s face brought a smile to James’ and he leaned over and kissed the man’s cheek.  Leave it to Q to focus on the absolute best reaction of them all while James worried about the different negative ones.

“Look at some of these, love,” James said, flipping through the channels.  On one, a pop culture critic was discussing how they always knew Prince Quain was not typical.  The image on the screen was one of Q from Mycroft’s wedding where he wore a black velvet tuxedo.

“You wear velvet in public on time…” Q muttered, closing the laptop and listening.  “Is that seriously the only evidence they have that I am gay?  Rather grasping at straws, don’t you think?”

James barked out a laugh, pulling Quain close, “A velvet suit and an official engagement to a man.  I think together those make a substantial argument.”  Q punched his shoulder and settled close.  “I feel bad for Mycroft though.  I can’t imagine the conservatives in Parliament will get far with their issues but he still needs to deal with it which isn’t fair to him.”

“He’s a big boy, James.  He can handle it better than anyone else.  Would you rather we send Sherlock out there?  I think, when you consider the alternatives, Mycroft is the proper one to deal with this.”  Q fell silent, resting against James as they watched people continue to discuss the legitimacy of their relationship, what little they knew about the Prince and the good deal more they knew about Bond.  “Your grandfather was a French Duke?  Why didn’t you tell me?” Quain asked with surprise as the BBC detailed the history of both the Bonds and the Delacroix.

James looked just as confused and shrugged, “I didn’t know.  Mother lost touch with a lot of the French family when she married Father and moved to Scotland.  Plus, she was older and my grandfather had already passed by the time I was born.  It simply never came up.  Though I do have a lovely estate outside Paris and I was thinking we could go there for the time between the wedding and when we start work.”

“Honeymoon in France?  I think that sounds lovely.  And the French really don’t care about my family so hopefully we will be granted some peace.”  Quain wondered if the French government would do more to protect them knowing what they did about Bond’s family and their formerly high rank in the French aristocracy.  

Rolling them so James was on top of his young lover, the blankets bunching around their waists, the two men kissed, letting the sound of the telly fade into the background.  Quain tangled a hand in James’ hair while James lifted one of Q’s legs to wrap around his waist.  Losing themselves in the moment, neither heard the door open or the man enter until a gentle throat clearing made them both stutter and sit up right.  James yanked the duvet up to their shoulders and positioned himself in a protective pose, keeping Quain sheltered from the intruder.

“It appears as though a change in position is going to be necessary,” Mycroft drawled, taking a seat near the bed.  “I do not know if you will be able to protect my brother properly if you can’t keep from engaging in amorous activities.”  

James relaxed, falling back against the pillows with a heavy sigh.  “Suppose I will become used to having said amorous activities interrupted by the King of England,” he muttered, causing Quain to giggle and Mycroft to frown.  “I would ask for what we owe the pleasure Mycroft but I think I can guess.”  Eyes darting to the television, all three took in an image of James as a young boy in his school uniform.

“Aww, look how cute you were,” Quain purred between his giggles, which ended promptly when a photo of himself appeared in it’s place.  He had been a gangly child with glasses too large for his face and hair that refused to cooperate and the image on the screen amplified it all to a comical level.  “That is the picture they chose?  No wonder some of the outlets think James is just a crown seeking social climber.  No other reason someone who looks like him would marry someone who looks like THAT.”

Pulling the young prince into his arms, James kissed the top of his head.  “You know otherwise, though.  You know what a gorgeous man you grow up to be and even without the crown, the palace or the money, I would be here with you.”  In fact, as far as James was concerned, all of the accoutrements to marrying a prince were the worst part of the relationship.  He often found himself longing for a chance to live like normal people, in a small flat, cooking for themselves and not having to worry about the paparazzi following them on trips to the museums or shops.

The two men smiled softly at each other until once more interrupted by the King.  “Regardless, we need to set a plan into motion.  Quain, you and James have an interview this afternoon with one of our more reliably friendly reporters.  Answer as truthfully as you can without compromising Quain’s security.  James, as of this moment, you are officially relieved of duty as Quain’s bodyguard.  A new one will be assigned to both of you for in the building and you will each have your own outside the palace from now until you enter employment at MI6.”  James opened his mouth to protest but Mycroft held up his hand to silence him, “There is no argument.  As of this moment, you are now a member of this family and you will live by the same rules as the rest of us.”

“One of us.  One of us,” Q chanted under his breath, causing James to roll his eyes.  “We know how to do this, Myc.  I may avoid it like the plague but I’ve been raised in this family just like you.  Give me some credit.”  

The king seemed to accept this answer and moved on.  “I will issue an official statement before your interview congratulating my brother on his engagement and Sherlock has already issued his.  I have a meeting with the more important players in Parliament tomorrow where I am certain this will come up.  There is nothing that says a member of the royal family cannot enter a same sex marriage, regardless of what the church or government wishes for you to believe.  After your interview, you two can consider yourself free from all obligations to discuss this with the press.  Anthea has already been in touch with the wedding planners who did our wedding and they will contact you next week.”

“No!” Quain interrupted, shaking his head.  “I don’t want a big formal wedding.  I don’t want press and coverage.  I refuse to be the poster boy for the marriage equality against my will.  I will gladly become an outspoken advocate for LGBT rights but not at my wedding.  I don’t want to be a prince for that moment.  I just want to marry James and live our lives. Is that too much to ask?”

Mycroft smiled, a rare look for the normally taciturn monarch, “Talk with the planners.  I am sure something can be worked out.  Regardless of what you may think, my main concern here is for you to be happy.”  With that, he stood and made his way back toward the door.  “Continue with your previous activities.  I would appreciate you getting it out of your system before the interview.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I originally said this fic would be 13 pages. However, I thought I would post the article the reporter is going to write so that will be the 13th chapter with the finale pushed back one week.
> 
> Sorry the last few updates have been slow. Between illness and work, everything is slow for me these days. Hoping to be back on track soon.
> 
> Hugs, Ginger


	13. A Royal Engagement: Exclusive Interview by London Times Reporter Lindsay Turner

If we had not been raised on images of the royal family, it would have been difficult to pick the prince from the consort upon entering their well appointed quarters within Buckingham Palace.  While Prince Quain was dressed in immaculate clothes, he looked decidedly younger and more informal than his beau, Lieutenant James Bond.  Bond, dressed in a bespoke suit, looked every bit the royal while the Prince’s hair stood on end and he slouched in the seat next to his fiancé, head on the man’s shoulder.

This set the tone for the whole interview, punctuated by soft glances, wry smiles, and subtle touches that told of two men who wanted nothing more than to be together.  At times, I felt as though I was intruding on a private moment as I faded from both of their consciousness, eyes only for each other.

_London Times: Unlike many royal relationships, we know almost nothing of your story.  You have managed your courtship entirely out of the public eye which leads to two questions – How did you two end up together and how did you manage to avoid the prying eye of the British populace?_

Prince Quain:   James was hired as my bodyguard.  I am notoriously difficult for the staff to work with.  I do not behave the way the rest of my family does and my personality can be a challenge at the best of times.  James was looking for a change of pace so when the opportunity to guard something besides a door came up, he took it.

James Bond: I had never met a member of the royal family before and if I had any grand notions of what they were like, Q dispersed them almost immediately.  The man was asleep at his computer, surrounded by cups of cold tea.  When he woke, his hair was sticking straight up and he looked more like a scared fawn than an heir to the British monarchy.

PQ: You surprised me!  I would have been dressed and ready if I knew they were sending you up.

JB: Stop lying, love.  It isn’t a good look on you.  You forget I know better.  If it happens before noon, you won’t be anywhere near put together.

PQ, glaring at his fiancé: The British public doesn’t care about the fact that I stay up late and sleep in later.

_LT: On the contrary, I think they will enjoy seeing this side of you.  You are notoriously private.  We know next to nothing about you. Especially compared to your brothers._

JB: Your brothers and I have all told you that.  He is fascinating.  I’m still finding new things I love about him every day.

PQ: It isn’t my fault that I like to have my own life.  I did not wish for all the publicity that comes from being a member of my family and it bothers me that I am inflicting it upon James now as well.  Sherlock feels similar to me but has learned to walk the fine line between public and private.  Mycroft has no choice in the matter, something which makes me grateful for being the third born.   As for avoiding the eye of the camera, I have my tricks. Mother did a good job of sheltering us all when we were children and being significantly younger than the other two meant that I was able to see what they did, emulate the things that worked well and change that which did not.  Besides, with James as my bodyguard, we could be seen in public together and no one would have thought anything of it.  He was expected to be with me.

_LT: I just want to say that I wish you two had allowed me to film this as many in the media wonder if this relationship is a ruse to rush through your brother’s equal rights bills that he has been promoting with the Prime Minister.  However, seeing the looks in your eyes as you look at each other and talk about the relationship makes it clear that this is very real._

JB: I’m not sure why anyone would think it wasn’t.  For the last three days we have had to hear about our relationship from every possible angle.  We have received death threats and Buckingham Palace is on high alert for threats against Mycroft and his family as well.  If we didn’t love each other, there is no benefit to putting the King and Crown Princess in harm’s way just for a bill.  Regardless of what anyone thinks about King Mycroft, he loves his family deeply and would never endanger them.

PQ: Now if it was Sherlock...

JB: Stop it.

PQ: You know I love my brother, I’m simply saying.

JB: I know what you are saying, darling.

_The two share a quick kiss, before realizing I am still in the room._

JB: Sorry about that.

 _LT: Please don’t apologize.  It’s nice to see the royal family acts just like any other.  The next question is for you, Mr. Bond and relates to that.  How has your transition from British citizen to royalty been?  I cannot imagine it is easy to get used t_ o.  

JB: I had it easier as I had been working for the palace for almost a year before Qand I started seeing each other.  I had lived in the shadow of their family for so long and continued to do so up until three days ago when the news of our engagement broke.  Perhaps you should ask me again in a few years when I have actually had to live under the scrutiny for awhile.

_LT: Speaking of the engagement, I’m sure our readers would love to hear about it.  Who proposed?  How did it happen?_

PQ: That was a private moment for James and myself which I would prefer not to have shared with the world.  What I will say is that I proposed to James here at the palace about a week ago and he said yes.  The details will remain between the two of us and those closest.

_Mr. Bond took the Prince’s hand, nodding as the young man spoke._

_LT: When is the wedding?  Have you thought about any of the details?  People are curious where you will have it as the church has come out to say that your nuptials will not be allowed within their walls, meaning that the obvious choice of Westminster is out._

PQ: You say the obvious choice of Westminster but that was never even in the consideration.  Our wedding will be this summer and it will be a private event.  Unlike my brother and his wife, we will not be broadcasting it to the world.  This is another of those moments that is for James and myself, as well as the ones who we love most in the world.  We will release some photos after it is over but that is the most the world will see of it.

JB: All of his life, Q has been a very private person, never one to seek out the spotlight.  I grew up as a normal child who had no experience of cameras following me wherever I went.  We do not intend to change who we are on the most important day of our lives.  We ask the world for understanding but we do not need their approval.  This is our wedding, not theirs, and while Quain is a public figure, they do not own his life.

_LT: Can’t say I’m not disappointed but as you said, it is your life.  We will all look forward to the pictures.  What are your plans for after the wedding?_

JB:  We will be spending a month on holiday somewhere private.  I know I am looking forward to being away from prying eyes and just getting to be with my husband for awhile.

PQ: Husband. I like the sound of that. I can’t wait either.  After the honeymoon, we will both start jobs and begin working on our life together.  It isn’t any different than any other couple just starting out.  It will be my first time living outside one of the palaces, aside from my time in Canterbury for uni, so it will be interesting to have a place that is just for us.

JB: You are going to have to learn how to do laundry.

PQ: How hard can it be?

JB simply laughs and kisses him once more.

_LT: Do you have any words of advice for other gay men out there, particularly young ones, who may look up to you as a role model?_

PQ: I’ve always known that I was gay and while I never came out to my parents, knowing it would have put them in a difficult position, my brothers have known and are supportive.  Find someone you can trust and rely on them, through the good times and the bad.  But most of all, believe in yourself.  There is nothing wrong or broken about you, no matter what you may hear from family, friends, neighbours, your religion or the media.  You are a person who is allowed to love another, no matter their gender.  Be proud of yourself and hold your head high.

JB:  I’m actually not gay.  I’m bisexual, which I know has been speculated in the media but I may as well confirm it.  My relationship with Q doesn’t make me gay any more than a relationship with a woman would make me straight.  I hope other bisexuals can look at me and understand that while they may feel invisible or forced into one label or another, you can love who you want and be who you are.  There are more of us than you think and you aren’t alone.  

_LT: I’d like to thank both of you for your time today.  I know you dislike the media and enjoy your privacy but please know how much the world will enjoy learning just a little more about you.  I wish you the best in your marriage and future._

PQ: Thank you, Ms. Turner.

JB: Yes, thank you Lindsay.  It’s been a pleasure.


	14. Chapter 14

The birds were just starting their morning songs when James awoke that morning.  It seemed strange, after all these years, to be back in his childhood bedroom.  The house had remained in his possession after the deaths of his parents and even being lost to the system for a number of years did not negate his ownership.  Never before did he find any interest in returning to Skyfall, a place tarnished by bad memories over riding the happier ones from a time when his parents were still alive.  But on the day of his wedding, it seemed the most appropriate place for their nuptials.  Somewhere in the massive estate, Quain’s bodyguard was probably beginning the process of waking the often surly prince and James took pity on the man, throwing on his own dressing gown to go find his soon-to-be husband.

A man followed behind James, not speaking but always there like a shadow.  James had not yet gotten used to having a bodyguard of his own and as much as he wished to dismiss the man and live a normal life, he had settled into this life as best as he could and when the reward for tolerating this was having Q by his side until the day they died, then he would put up with just about anything.

The prince’s bodyguard could be heard from inside the room and James pushed his way in, dismissing the man with a nod.  Shooting James a grateful look, his former coworker retreated, leaving James alone with his fiancée.  “If you do not get out of bed, you will be leaving me at the altar and I am pretty sure I won’t take it well,” he quipped, pulling the duvet back off the prone form of Quain.

“You are a cruel man, James Bond.  I don’t think you are allowed to see me right now so put the blanket right back.”  Throwing an arm over his eyes, Quain attempted to burrow under his pillow.  “Also, I think you just threatened a Prince of England.  I could have you hanged for treason.”

“You could but then you would be missing out on all the good things I do for you.  I seem to remember two nights ago you declaring my tongue to be a national treasure."  Bond chuckled, sitting next to the sleepy Prince and leaning in to press a kiss to the man’s chin; the only part of his face visible under the pillow.  “Are you planning on wearing a white gown down the aisle?  I’m pretty sure the admonition is against seeing the bride on the wedding day.  Considering neither of us are brides, I can see you all I want.”

Quain kicked half-heartedly at James but only succeeded in uncovering himself more.  “Remind me why I love you?”

Instead of answering with words, James reclined next to his lover, pushing the pillow off Q’s face and kissing him softly, hand stroking through Q’s hair and leg slipping between the other man’s.  It took only a moment before Q was responding enthusiastically; rolling so he was on top of James, their bodies pressed together from lips to toes.  “Good reminder,” he murmured against James’ lips before kissing him once more, rolling his hips against those of his fiancé.

“Not now.  Save it for tonight, love.”  James was not one to turn down sex under normal circumstances but this was their wedding day and if he was going to have sex, it would be with his husband.  This was unusual enough however for Q to give him a strange look, pulling back to make sure James was alright.

With a sigh, James rolled them back onto their sides, looking at Q with the fondness that he reserved for his lover alone.  “I believe you have things to be doing.  There is a rather important event today at noon and I would prefer you not to show up looking as if you just rolled out of bed.”  The wedding was to take place in the main room of the estate.  The room was just large enough to house their respective guests and had a view of the wind-blown moors outside.  While both had entertained the idea of having the wedding outdoors, the risk of paparazzi interrupting it was too high.

Q pursed his lips, looking as if he were coming up with an argument but finding none he simply smiled and nodded.  “Sherlock is supposed to be here at my room in twenty minutes.  Let’s hope this time he has put on his pants before leaving his own chambers.”  The middle prince had agreed to stay at Skyfall with James and Quain, preferring the quiet of the Scottish Highlands to sharing the castle at Balmoral with Mycroft, Anthea and Elizabeth.  “The others are to arrive just prior to the ceremony in order to leave as little time as possible for the media outlets to figure it out.”

“Then I shall leave you to get ready before Sherlock arrives.  I only came by to make sure you didn’t sleep through our nuptials. “

The soft look James adored in the normally stoic prince came to Q’s eyes and he leaned in to kiss his former bodyguard.  “You are going to need more than that to get rid of me, my love.”

“See you in a few hours.”

“Love you.”

“You too, Quain.”

The following hours were a flurry of activity as flowers and food arrived, the wedding planners having spared no expense for what would be the most talked about but least seen wedding of the year.  Already there were bets in the news and on the street about when the Prince and his beau would tie the knot.  Quain took great pleasure in the fact that the day they had chosen was 120 to 1 odds against.  James was pretty sure Q himself had placed a few bets on that day.

As James straightened his bow tie, looking at himself in the mirror and barely recognizing the smiling man in the reflection, he heard the door open and close from around the corner and the smile widened.  “Couldn’t stay away, Q?” he chuckled, turning in the expectation that his fiancé would be standing there.

“I’m afraid I am not the one you are expecting,” came the soft drawl of Quain’s middle brother.  Sherlock stood looking uncomfortable in his morning dress, even though he had worn it just a year and a half ago for Mycroft’s wedding.  “However, I wished to talk with you for a moment before the ceremony got underway.”

While James and Sherlock got on reasonably well, that was mostly because there was often a good deal of distance between them.  They had little in common besides Quain and so James was pretty sure he knew the purpose to this visit.

“I am not one to speak of feelings and emotions.  I prefer facts and books and research.  I have made no secret of the fact that I have no intention to ever marry and while I understand the purpose in it, I do not feel it is of any necessity to me.”  James raised a brow but said nothing.  “However, Quain has never been like the other two of us.  While Mycroft has always felt his duty to the Country and the Throne above all else, and I have always been driven by my intellectual pursuits, Q was the one with his head in the clouds.  Certainly he is as intelligent as us but besides his programming, he has never put it to any good use.”

James frowned, unsure where this was going but when he opened his mouth to ask, Sherlock held up his hand to silence him.  “What I am trying to say is that I love my brother but have always been a little worried about him.  He lacked focus and drive.  He hid in his room as much as possible.  I’ve been accused of being anti-social but Quain took it to an extreme.  The only time he would come alive was when it was just Mycroft, myself and Q.  Even around Mummy and Dad he was reserved.  But you have brought something out in him.  He smiles more.  There are jokes and I can see in his eyes how much you mean to him.  You have brought a life to my brother that has always been missing.  I know you do not need my blessing and that Quain did not seek it but I wished for you to know that I approve of this relationship between the two of you and I wish for you both the best.  I wish you would reconsider MI6 but that is mostly because the career choice pleases Mycroft and I can’t stand the smug look on his face.”

Toward the end, a smirk had tugged at James’ lips.  The speech sounded a bit rehearsed until the end where Sherlock’s personality shone through once more but on the whole, James was touched that the prince had made the effort.  Stepping forward, he shook Sherlock’s hand with a smile, “Thank you, Sherlock.  Your brother’s well being has been my primary concern since the day I met him.  Now that simply extends to his emotional health as well.  He loves you, even if it isn’t something he says all the time.”

Sherlock gave a nod, acknowledging James’ words and also - at least to James’ understanding – signaling that the uncomfortable emotional discussion was done.  “Well, good.  Don’t let himself get killed at MI6.  Or work so hard he forgets to eat.  Or sleep.  Mycroft hired someone to make sure I do those things so it only seems right that Quain have to put up with the tediousness as well.”  He turned on his heel and left the room, leaving a chuckling James Bond in his wake.

~ ~ ~

It wasn’t until the music began to play that James felt the butterflies take flight in his stomach.  Instead of having one of them walk down the aisle to the other, Quain had the idea that they would enter from different sides of the room at the same time and meet in the middle.  As James took his first step into the room, populated with two dozen powerful people from the British royal family and their staff, his eyes were only on Quain, who likewise appeared single minded in his desire to get to his fiancé.  

It had taken some time to find a justice who was willing to perform the ceremony given how new same sex marriages were in the country, and many did not want to be the first to perform one for the royal family.  The backlash could have been severe.  Up in Scotland, however, they found a man who was more than happy to marry a Scot to the British Prince.  “’Bout time ya figured out we breed them good up here,” he had drawled and clapped a terrified looking prince on the back.  James had chuckled and held his hand, always amused when Q found himself far out of his element.    

And so it was, to that heavy Scottish brogue, Prince Quain and James Bond said their vows.  Anthea dabbed at her eyes, as did Lestrade's wife Molly and the head of security himself, though James briefly wondered if it was because he had to replace James on the staff.

_"I, Quain, take you James to be my husband.  I will love and honour you all the days of our lives.  You will be my companion, my friend, my lover and I will be yours.  Today I give you my hand as well as my heart.  Above all others I have chosen you to be by my side from now until the day we die.  You are the strongest man I know, the one whom I trusted with my life and now trust with my heart.  It is a delicate thing so hold it gently so it may grow in the love that you give it.  Whatever our days may bring, I know this much is true; I am proud to call you my husband.  I love you, now and for all the days of our lives."_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with this story through thick and thin. I know you have been left hanging a number of times and I hope in the end, your patience was rewarded. 
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated and rewarded with my unending love and devotion.


End file.
